We quickly board the banca tied up alongside the
North Mine Dock. Mike Nagartan, the inn-keeper, has chartered the 'Randy
Boy', out of Cabcaben, to take Don Abbott, Ed McCarthy and I to Battery
Monja. The boatman has just made the twenty minute trip from his home port
across the North Channel to Corregidor and now he must refuel before we head
south to Wheeler Point. We watch as the boatman sucks gasoline from a one gallon
glass jug through a length of plastic tubing and we can see some bubbles in the
liquid dart quickly as it constantly flows into the inboard engine's gas tank.
This done we shove off at 0720 and turn due
south. The calm sea is covered with unsightly jetsam discarded by the
passengers on the Island Cruiser and the many bancas that tie up at
Bottomside's north shore. I feel almost cool even though the sun burns
brightly in a cloudless sky. It may be I don't notice the heat because I am
a little excited as we rapidly make headway through the South China Sea
toward Wheeler Point.
Little can be seen from the banca except the
heavy jungle above the beaches. Most of the buildings and fortifications are
well hidden. We pass Searchlight #1 at Battery Point but all that is left
are a few pieces of concrete hanging precariously over the bare cliff
awaiting the final plunge on to the rock strewn beach far below. The remains
of Battery Hanna (or what we take to be the battery) is a huge rectangle of
concrete on the side of the vertical wall at Cape Corregidor where it is
suspended 30 or 40 feet below the North Shore Road. The earth beneath
the concrete battery emplacement has washed away and the entire structure,
still nearly intact, has slowly slipped down from the top of the massive
palisade.
We land just a
little south of Wheeler Point at 0758. I look up at the tree-covered cliff we soon must
climb and it looks steep and formidable. Since Beda knows the right trail to take, we
waste no time and move quickly up the face of the cliff. It is thickly covered with trees,
here offering secure handholds along the well travelled trail. You can't mistake the
trail since several people have recently climbed it. Noel and the boatman are behind me
and every so often give me a push, but it is hardly necessary as I am making good
progress on my own. It is hot work and the cliff is steep. I have two canteens filled with
a gallon of water that are heavy enough but Ed is having a much harder time with the bulky
camcorder.
At 0825 we are
at Battery Monja's casemate opening, the only way left now to enter the battery dug in the
cliff wall. In February 1945 there were three entrances, but two of the openings have
since been blocked by debris that has fallen from the cliff above. The climb was neither
overly difficult nor overly tiring. I am happy to have reached the prize finally after the
dismal failure on the first try two years ago. The climb, this time, was simple because we
took the right route.
The battery is
in good condition and except for the two entrances on the South Shore Road being blocked,
there is little damaged. The casemate opening has been narrowed by cascading debris and I
feel a slight twinge of claustrophobia at the effort I make to squeeze through the narrow
slit on my back. Once inside the chamber is roomy and the Coleman lanterns burning
brightly fill it with the slightly unpleasant smell of kerosene.
There is
considerable evidence that visitors have recently tried to remove dirt blocking the exit
opening on the South Shore Road. The facility was never hit during the siege or the 503d's
recapture. It is easy to see why it escaped harm. It couldn't possibly be struck by aerial
bombs since they could not be detonated near the structure. The bombs could hit the top of
Wheeler Point 270 feet above and the beach 180 feet below and, if perfectly dropped, on
the little nose where Searchlight #4 and the battery's second gun was, but even in this
unlikely event, the bomb would detonate 40 feet below the casemate. The only way this
battery, tunnelled into the cliff at Wheeler Point, could be hit would be a from a naval
rifle round entering the casemate's 2'9"x11'6" opening. To make this shot even
more difficult, assuming you could find this small opening, it must be fired from an area
north of Wheeler Point and west of Cape Corregidor. The battery in turn, could only fire
to the northwest.
As D and E
Companies learned, to their sorrow, there is no practical route for an unsupported land
attack. The approach from the south using the South Shore Road is so narrowly restricted
that a handful of defenders can easily block any movement from that direction. There
simply is no way to approach the battery from the north. It is virtually invulnerable to
attack by infantry troops without naval rifle support at close range and probably tank
support on the South Shore Road as well.
We leave the
tunnels and magazine, going through the tight squeeze at the casemate again and examine
the Panama mount just west of the casemate. There is a relatively flat narrow nose that
extends west from Wheeler Point below the casemate. A large hole was dug in the nose below
the casemate and a Panama mount placed in the cut. The field of fire for this gun was
severely limited since there was a wall of earth blocking fire to the southwest. Someone
digging at the Panama mount has uncovered a steel rail that supported the trail of a 155mm
gun, Battery Monja's second gun.
An observer at
this gun position had a perfect view to of the beach almost to Cheney Ravine to the north.
It is small wonder D Company suffered such losses as they attacked Battery Monja from the
north. They were under observation almost from the moment they emerged from Cheney Ravine.
At 0930, Randy Boy sails north to Cheney Ravine.
Going east up
the sandstone creek bed, we scale a steep hogback about 50 yards from the beach and reach
the Strategic Materials Storehouse #8 dug into the side of the narrow ridge. It is a
surprisingly sturdy concrete structure with a rather imposing entrance. An unlined 50 foot
tunnel has been cut through the rear of the storehouse running west out to the cliff face.
Another very narrow unlined tunnel branches east from the main shaft. Both tunnels were
dug long after the SMSH was built.
Ed, our party's
intrepid mole has, in a few minutes, explored the entire primitive tunnel system. Two
shallow 4x8x10 foot caves are cut in the base of the palisade where it meets the the
beach, 30 yards south of Cheney Ravine.
We board the
banca and leave for James Ravine, arriving there at 1100hrs. The boatman
skilfully guides
the ship over the rocky ocean bottom and and brings us close to shore. Our little column
marches in single file up the heavily wooded ravine and, after several false starts, we
find the entrance to the underground infantry barracks blocked by tons of debris about 200
yards from the shore. If you would explore this wonder further, tons and tons of earth and
broken concrete would have to be removed. Was the damage done by bombing, artillery fire
or demolition? Probably a combination of all three.
We ease the
banca off the rocks and set a course for home. The wind has come up and the swells are
getting higher, causing our little craft to pitch. The passengers are silent now, tired
after a long day. Even Ed, our outgoing cheerful companion has little to say. Our helmsman
swings around Battery Point as we make the final turn to starboard and the familiar North
Dock suddenly is in sight. It is 1230.
I go to my
aerie on the upper level of Mike's house and take off my sweat soaked corduroy trousers
and dark-green USMC tee shirt and change to fresh clothes. We are served BLT, soup and
fresh pineapple for lunch and I top it off with a San Miguel.
Mike explains
the recent excavation at Battery Monja that we have just seen. Mr.
Koite, a former
Japanese soldier was serving on Corregidor when the 503d assaulted the island, and
surrendered on New Year's Day, 1946 after hiding in Battery Monja for nearly 9
months. He visited Corregidor in October 1988 and, among other things, attempted to
find the remains of one of his Battery Monja comrades who was buried in a landslide that
fell on the entrances at the South Shore Road. Koite said the Americans triggered the
slide by exploding charges on Topside to seal the battery's entrances when they suspected
the Japanese were hiding in the battery. After an unsuccessful search for his comrade,
Koite was detained by a Filipino naval petty officer on a charge of treasure hunting.
There is an official ban on "treasure hunting" (as Mike calls it) on Corregidor
that is enforced by Filipino police and security officers. His baggage was searched but
finally he was sent on his way.
Tourists are
forbidden to carry shovels as they explore the island, or so Mike tells me. I talk with
Mike about the island's present population and some other civil matters. There are about
300 people living on the island. An exact figure is hard to come by since the resident's
relatives, who often make Corregidor their more or less permanent home, are hard to keep
track of. A good example of this is Noel, Beda's younger brother who was looking for
a job and the family decided that he could go and live with his brother and perhaps get
construction work. He had been living with Beda and his wife for several months and
could be considered a resident. Adi, the yardman, is not Mike's relative but the relative
of a friend and has been on the island for sometime under Mike's aegis. Much of this sort
of thing goes on making an accurate census difficult, but if anyone knows, Mike does.
The governing
of the island is the responsibility of the Corregidor Foundation Inc., an agency of the
Department of Tourism. You can tell who the foundation people are by the distinctive red
T-shirts they wear. They work in various places - the museum, the tax office, the road
maintenance crew, the radio station. When the Philippine army governed the island until
1985 or so, the civilian force that could be likened to the Corregidor Foundation was
called the National Shrine. The Corregidor Foundation replaced all of the National Shrine
people however many of them stayed on Corregidor to live, from hand to mouth, selling
souvenirs to tourists, fishing, trapping and doing other things. There is a contract
security guard service that resembles a police force. There are Philippine navy men who
are responsible for security as well. I would guess that they may well be combating NPA
terrorism. Then there are the construction workers, by far, the largest single group. A
rough breakdown follows; Lighthouse keepers-3 plus 12 dependents; Corregidor Foundation-40
plus 100 dependents; Navy-6 no dependents; Sarkies-5 plus 15dependents; Guards-22 no
dependents; National Shrine-50; Construction workers- most of the remainder.
I get a ride to
Topside with Toto in the coaster (i.e. a large van) who will deliver a load of charcoal to
Mary who owns a cashew nut tree, several goats that graze, at least some of them, on Jump
Field A - the parade ground. Mary also has the only liquid refreshments stand on all
of Topside where soft drinks and San Miguel are sold. An absolute monopoly and a very busy
place when the tour buses deposit thirsty passengers at the memorial.
I have come up
to look at Battery Wheeler and Wheeler Point. I walk slowly over the length of Battery
Wheeler's berm. I think of the first platoon and Gifford and Mara racing down its steep
bank on to the stairs leading into the battery. Pucci is lying on the ground near the
stairs leading up to the gun port. "He's dead!" shouts Hughart, Sanchez'
assistant BAR man, to no one in particular as he races by the prostrate body. But SSG
Pucci would live to fight another day.
I go to Wheeler
Point next and look at the trees covering the promontory and talk with Toto about
arrangements to cut them down. If I want to thoroughly explore this area the trees must be
thinned out. I return to Bottomside and dinner; fried chicken and rice and a San
Miguel. I have a postprandial gin and tonic in the yard where I can sit and watch the boat
traffic on the North Channel. A long day and I am in bed by 2115.